Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nepal and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Searchers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Soft Cell,
FM Einheit,
Newcleus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cluster,
Outsiders,
Tom Boy,
The Slackers,
Sister Nancy,
Jeff Mills,
Accadde A,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Max Romeo,
Judy Mowatt,
Glenn Branca,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Crime,
Cybotron,
Marvin Gaye,
The Black Dice,
The Kinks,
Scrapy,
Ten City,
The Last Poets,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Copeland,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-102,
Blake Baxter,
Wings,
Excepter,
Agent Orange,
Kenny Larkin,
Deakin,
Technova,
Gang Gang Dance,
Severed Heads,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
John Cale,
Roxy Music,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Josef K,
Jandek,
Andrew Hill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Byron Stingily,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.